Sunset

The sun rose again today.
But I wasn’t there to watch it.

I was still in bed, fighting to reclaim the sleep that I briefly achieved earlier only because of the lingering effects of the cheap domestic beer that I ingested by the gallon last night trying to forget 15 seconds of the evening that I wish I had never happened.

You.
In love.
Long distance.
Professional baseball player.

Of course, no one wants to hear these words, unless they are watching a commercial for some new AT&T service or something.
I certainly didn’t want to hear them.

I thought you and I were together.
I thought he was just an old friend that came to visit last weekend.
I thought it was more like:

You.
In love.
Around the corner.
Professional lawyer; amateur blogger.

I was a little bit off.

But as much as I didn’t want to hear those words, if ever I was forced to listen to them, I would’ve liked to hear them from your lips.

Instead, I had to hear your ridiculously hot friend who designs sports cars for a living and is so impossibly perfect that she can intimidate an entire time-zone full of people say those words into her cell phone about ten feet away from me.

Make a commercial out of that.

I’m going back to bed.

Maybe the sun will rise again tomorrow.